Water
by Liebling
Summary: ‘ She's very lucky for someone who knows much about house elves and little about people. ’ A friendship ficlet. Slight ((Ron&Hermione))


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She was new at this whole friend thing.

She corrects their spelling and their homework.  And she's all too new at this 'friend' thing and she doesn't understand that people don't want to be corrected on grammar and book facts.  People don't want to be told they're wrong.  She's new at this buddy deal, and she doesn't get it.  She's new at it and she keeps correcting them.  _"No, **Ron**,"_ she says, _"the goblin revolt was at the turn of the seventeenth century."  "No, **Harry**, the library closes far before eleven."_  It's a very annoying thing and people who know about other people simply don't do that type of thing.

She eats lunch with them and sometimes forgets that she's around grown-boys.  So she takes another helping of mashed potatoes, pours on the turkey gravy smiles and says:  _"I love these!"_  They stare at her, blink and snicker and the redhead has to be elbowed in the ribs so he stops laughing.  She picks up on slight laughing, reddens and takes another bite of mashed potatoes.  Sometimes the redhead will slurp up some of the gravy in her potatoes if she isn't looking.

The girl sometimes nags a lot.  Too much.  Like an annoying Mother_.  "No, Ron!  You can't say that!"_  _"No, Harry that really isn't right!"_  When she does this, sometimes Ron will stare at her and begin yelling angry words about 'none of your business' and 'shove off' and she'll smile--a secretive smile--and say: "Well, if you did things right the first time..." he glares.  The redhead is not so understanding.  She's new at this whole friend thing.

At eleven, she was innocent, at twelve she was suspicious, at thirteen she was stubborn, at fourteen she was a woman.  Refusing to tell them her date to the Yule Ball.  Refusing to say it.  Only two words: **_"Viktor Krum."_**  Only two words.  It made the redhead jealous—they always say.  It'd all be too easy if she spilled the beans though, and they always say that she's difficult.  _She is._  The tall gangly boy presses her and tries to throw it on her but she's too quick for him--she's too brilliant.

When she got older and they got older as well and things changed.  And she's not so new at this friend thing anymore.  But she still corrects their work, still eats mashed potatoes and is still secretive.  She is still **_Hermione Granger_**, after all.  Many years with these boys and it's funny how little she's actually changed.  She kids them sometimes and says they've made her soft, knowing it isn't true.  Knowing she's still as tough as she was the day she set foot on Hogwarts.  Knowing she's so much smarter than they'll ever be.  She's very lucky for someone who knows much about house elves and little about people.

Her parents always told her that her intelligence made up for her lack of social skills.  But it didn't, not really.  She still shies away from the pretty girls and she's still far too scared to talk to Ron about **_that_**.  Whatever **_that _**may be.  

She's got an old soul.

Sometimes, if she can't help it, she cries in front of them.  And she hates the feeling of crying and others watching her--and the gasping and sobbing and choking.  She hates however whenever she cries Ron gets her a glass of water--as though that'll help--and says awkwardly with a pat on the shoulder: _"Here, have some of this,"_ and then shoves it in her face.  Crying--it's just so awful and uncomfortable and the tears keep coming especially when someone comments it's "okay" to cry.  She can't stop the tears more than the next person.  The boys' aren't so good with things like this and they just sort of blink and watch her for a bit until she goes to the dormitory.  They watch her slam the door, her glass of water in her hand.

She's so lucky, the girl always thinks.  She has a family who loves her, a fortune back at home, she has talents and gifts and it's all so dandy.  The ebony haired boy--he has Voldemort on his tail, and his parents are dead and everything is so very sad for him.  And the redhead--bless his heart--has a family stricken with poverty and so far down they won't be able to start up again.  But he has a family, a rather psychotic family but still a family.

Sometimes, they annoy her.  Sometimes, they make her scream and yell, stomp her feet and go have a glass of water.  Don't ask her why water is a comfort--but it is, and _perhaps _it deals with the redhead and _perhap_s it does not.  You never know.   Sometimes they make her throw pillows at their heads and when the redhead (kiddingly) threw her essay into the fire--then he really got it.  But in the end they ended up laughing and all together on the stained scarlet couch.  She was in the middle, her feet upon the scarred boy's lap and her head on the redhead's shoulder.

And finally, in her young life she had tasted friendship.  Real friendship.

**_...but she was still new at this whole friend thing._**

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End file.
